


you've gotten into my bloodstream

by Slightly Anonymous Sapphic (Cinnamonbookworm)



Category: Mamamoo, Real Person Fiction, 우리 결혼했어요 | We Got Married
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Poem, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Rain, Texting, The Long Filming Drought of October 2016, eventually i'll stop writing get together fics, inspired by the promo for this week's episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonbookworm/pseuds/Slightly%20Anonymous%20Sapphic
Summary: He's not supposed to do this.
Or: despite her best intentions, she's fallen in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like I owed you all a real get-together after Monday's lack of closure. That being said, there definitely were a few deleted endings to this that I ended up not going with because they didn't fit the image I was going for.  
> I really love writing both phone call scenes and scenes that involve almost any types of stars/rain, though, so, once again, lots of fun had writing this.

_Sometimes, in the dream,_

_you love me. Isn’t that strange?_

_-_ x

 

“What are you doing?” Solar asks, and she means it, because he’s not supposed to do this.

He’s not supposed to have roses and candles and big gestures of food. He’s not supposed to take her hand and hold it to his heart so she can feel it beat under his silk pajamas. She’s not supposed to feel something when the pulse of it all flutters under her fingertips. None of this was in the original plan.

If she’s being honest, though, the plan flew out the window back at the Chuseok rally. It took one look at the word “competition” and burned away easier than paper. The both of them looked at each other and she just _knew_ it wasn’t going to last. It wasn’t realistic. Whatever facsimile of love they were playing with had begun to pass for the real thing.

Now Eric sits in front of her, legs crossed under him, smiling like the world’s going to end tomorrow and he’s glad he’s spending his last day with her. Or something cheesy and terrible like that. Something she would've hated six months ago. He’s not supposed to look at her this way.

But he does, anyway, and she supposes she’s grateful. There’s been no need for declarations when she can see everything in his eyes - has been able to, from the beginning. Eric looks at her like he’d follow her to the ends of the earth, and that scares her, but it also means he’s never going to leave, and that’s all she can ask for.

Her hands come up from her meal, because she’s overwhelmed by all the little things. Solar hits him, but not too hard. She hits him because he’s _terrible_ for doing this to them. Absolutely terrible. She hates him. So much.

“You’re driving me crazy!” she bemoans. He _is._ Eric’s muddled up all the thoughts in her head and swirled them around and she’s not even sure what to say anymore except the truth. Everything’s different now. It smells like candles and tastes like noodles and chocolate and feels like the way her knuckles slide against the silk on his arms. Different isn’t all that bad, Solar thinks. In fact, it’s kind of incredibly good.

Eric smiles - or rather, his smile grows wider, because she doesn’t think he’s been doing anything _but_ smiling since they landed. “That’s my job,” he says, and she hits him again for that.

This all has to be some dream she’s going to wake up from any second now, because nothing can possibly feel this perfect. Perfect and right and _oh, god she wants to kiss him._

Solar shoots a glance at one of the cameras and stops herself. She’ll have time, later. Later the effect of it all might have worn off, but later there will be time for them. Just the two of them. In a room that can’t be real.

)-(

They leave, and she doesn’t move.

Solar stays in his arms, where they left her, and finds the way she fits in the crook of his neck. So many things have changed since the last time they did this, and it would feel like a lifetime ago if she didn’t have the photographic evidence to prove that it wasn’t.

Miles upon miles of photos sitting in her camera roll that she’s not allowed to share. Moments that made her happier than nearly anything else, that she can’t even imagine making anyone feel anything else but undeniable joy. That’s what she’s feeling right now: a stubborn kind of joy. A joy no one can take away from her because it’s _hers_ , despite what everyone else wants and needs from her. It’s a joy she doesn’t quite know the taste of, but she’s dying to have more anyways.

“Thank you,” Solar says, looking up at him.

“For what?” Eric asks, and he seems genuinely surprised by her quiet statement. “It’s not like I’m the one who gave us any of this…”

“You’re not,” she agrees, turning on her side to face him. “But you’re the one who brought me food.” Little things. He always remembers the little things. The most important things. “And that’s what _really_ matters.”

Solar can feel him flush under her touch, can see the way his ears are still red, the color only growing stronger with the second, but he’s still smiling. She’s still smiling too. She reaches for his hand, pulling it up to examine the way their fingers fit together. Their fingernails alternate between her polka-dotted ones and his blank ones. She wonders if maybe he’d take her up on her offer to paint his again.

They never had finished it that one time.

“Is it?” He’s teasing her now. It frustrates her down to her bones in a way she can’t explain. “You see, here I thought I was doing some sort of grand gesture, but if all you want is food…”

“It’s not all I want,” Solar clarifies, and then pauses. It’s both exactly what she meant to say and not what she wanted to say at all. What she wants is everything and nothing. She wants nothing more than what she has, and everything that she only barely has.

She only barely has him. She could completely, though, if she was brave enough. Solar doesn’t know if she’s brave enough.

Eric examines her face, suddenly serious again. She hopes all of her feelings are written on her face. His are. His always are. She can read him like the stars. He’s saying all her _everythings_ at once and it’s almost overwhelming. It’s electricity shooting through her veins. Impulse. Everything.

They move at the same time, slow at first, and then faster, like they both forgot themselves halfway. She kisses him with her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat rise and fall with the exhilaration of it all. Her knees knock against his as she moves, and she smiles at the sensation of silk on silk.

It’s messy and loose and their teeth click together a few times, but it’s _hers._ And it’s simple.

)-(

Solar wakes up in free fall.

The phone next to her bed buzzes, intermingling with the city noises coming from outside her bedroom window. She tugs on her blankets, unexpectedly cold. Her head hurts, like maybe she hit it at some point during the night.

Her phone buzzes again. Solar turns towards it, pausing midway to close her eyes and shoo away any lingering thoughts of her dream. _You did nothing_ , she reminds herself. _You said nothing. Stop being upset that nothing happened._

She checks her texts, and when she sees the most recent one - the one that woke her from her dream - there’s a bitter taste in her mouth. Of course the reality of it all would interrupt the fantasy. The worst part is it’s not even fantasy. There’s no need for dragons or ghosts for it to have been real, just a little more of a push from her side.

But she’s not like that. She’s not the type of person to jeopardize a good thing - a thing the both of them barely understand - just for something she wants. However, she is the type to agonize over every wrong decision. This one isn’t _wrong_ , but it’s approaching there.

There’s nothing _wrong_ with not kissing him, with falling asleep in his arms and not even noticing when he’d sneaked off to the bed they’d prepared but not shown in the next room. There’s nothing _wrong_ with regret, nothing except the way it makes her feel. The way it crawls across her skin and makes her close her eyes tight and build up her walls again to push it all away.

 _Have you heard anything?_ His text asks her, blue bubble glowing almost hypnotically in the late night. She hasn’t. She hasn’t heard anything. All she’s heard in the past few weeks has been _comeback, comeback, comeback_. And she’s fine with that, on some level. It’s her job, and she loves it. She loves early morning practice and long car rides with her members, and she loves performing more than anything.

At the same time, though, she misses him. And as the _missing him_ grows the more regret she has, because she’s worried - ridiculously so - that they’re never going to see each other again. It’s ridiculous; she knows that at the very least they’d have to film a goodbye episode together. She feels it anyway, though. She looks at her schedule and sees that it’s noticeably absent of him. There’s no time anymore, in between the practices and the car rides and the performances. And when there is he’s busy. So they’re stuck in this weird sort of limbo where they’re missing each other’s texts and she’s _missing him_ and it’s hard to feel like anything could possibly be reciprocated when she doesn’t have his eyes to reassure her.

 _Nothing,_ she answers. _You?_

_Nothing here either._

Solar groans and lies back down, scared to go to sleep in case she has another dream, but also intrinsically, absolutely tired. It’ll be worth it when they comeback, she keeps reminding herself, it’ll be worth it when everyone gets to hear the new songs. It’ll be worth it when they’re topping charts and winning things and she can feel like she’s doing _something_ right.

There’s nothing regarding filming, though. Nothing regarding him. And it’s just a heavy reminder they’re not the priorities in each other’s lives. No one even thinks to ask them if they are. No one’s even really noticed how broken up she is about it.

Of course, they wouldn’t have any reason to. She’s not the type to announce her sorrows to the world. There’s no reason to worry everyone when they’re all rushing to get things ready for the comeback. It’s not like it’s affecting her work, either, so they don’t need to know.

Her members have their suspicions, she knows that. A few times they asked her how Dubai was, and she answered with all the physical details and none of the emotional ones, because they don’t need to worry about her, they really don’t. She’s fine. She’s more than fine, actually. She has a home and a family and a career and if she’s falling in love with someone in a way that actually _hurts_ that’s not enough to make her _not_ fine.

She’ll tell them later, in a quiet moment after a show. Or maybe after they film their goodbye episode. By that time they won’t be able to worry themselves over things they have no control over. They’ll be upset for her, she’s sure, but there won’t be any _what if_ ’s left over for her to obsess over. Or maybe by then there will just be more.

Solar wonders if Eric has any _what if_ ’s of his own.

Her phone starts ringing then, a soft electronic marimba that she answers too-fast, worried it’ll wake Moonbyul. “Hey,” he says when she answers, and she quickly scurries out to the balcony of their apartment so as not to wake her sleeping roommate.

“Hi,” she responds, sitting down on the little chair they’d put out there, blanket wrapped around her as a shield from the autumn night’s air. The lights of the city almost look like stars from here.

“Sorry I’m calling this late,” he apologises, as if he needs to. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” She doesn’t mention it’s because of him. He doesn’t need to know she’s scared to sleep because sometimes she dreams about what it would be like if he loved her too. “I guess that’s what happens when you never have a normal sleep schedule.”

He laughs at that, but it doesn’t feel the same as the real thing. It’s close though. As close enough as she can get, for now. Solar smiles into her phone, and it’s a sad sort of smile. A sad smile for a bittersweet ending.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and she swallows down the urge to tell him everything.

“Sore.” _My heart feels rubbed raw and I don’t know how to fix it._ “We’ve been rehearsing non stop, and when we’re not rehearsing we’re performing.”

Eric makes a noise of sympathy. “Have you eaten?”

He shouldn’t have to worry about her, either, but she supposes she can’t stop him from doing it. “I’m on a diet,” she answers. “Comeback, remember?”

“I know,” he says. “But have you eaten?”

Solar thinks back to their fairly empty refrigerator - no one goes grocery shopping when all their meals are either nonexistent or brought to them in paper bags in the few moments of rest they have. “I think we might have some kimchi in the fridge. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Eric’s silent for a few moments, and she panics for all of them. “I do, though.”

He’s not supposed to say things like that. He’s not supposed to worry about her. She’s been taking care of herself for so long now, she doesn’t even know how to react to everyone else’s attempts to do the same. Especially his, because him taking care of her means opening herself up to possibilities that are the reason her heart is so sore right now.

She _wants_ those possibilities. She _wants_ all of it. She’s just not completely sure how to get it.

Well, she can try. “You _can’t._ You can’t worry about me.”

He laughs at that, and it’s _not funny_ , but he does anyway. “I can’t help it.”

Solar frowns. “And you can’t _say things like that either_. Not unless you mean them. Because I’m already hurting as it is.”

She so did not mean to go there, but it’s night and she’s _tired_ and all she wants is for someone to tell her it’s going to be okay. He’s already resigned himself to worrying about her so he might as well be the one to do it. She’s confused him now, though, she can feel it in his silence.

“I don’t- I mean, _of course_ I mean them, but… Yongsun, why are you hurting? How am I hurting you?” Eric’s voice sounds so pained that she almost takes it back.

If he was here she would hit him. He’s too oblivious for his own good. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to her, how her brain feels like mush even just talking to him.

“Nothing. It’s-” she pauses to think. “It’s nothing. You’re not doing anything.” _And that’s the problem._ He’s been trying so hard not to hurt her that all the _nothing_ is crushing her. She needs a sign, a signal, _something._

“You can tell me,” he pushes, but his voice is too quiet. “Whatever it is I’ll stop, I promise.”

So they’re having this conversation now. Solar spares a glance through the door to check that her roommate’s still asleep, and then lets her eyes wander over the city skyline, trying to formulate her thoughts into words. Straightforward and simple. That’s all she wants it to be. The problem is everything on the inside is so complicated she’s not sure.

“You’re not doing _anything_ ,” she emphasizes again. “And I need you to start. Because I haven’t seen you in weeks and I miss you and I’m also terrified that you’re not missing me back because you’re _not doing anything._ ”

He’s quiet on the other end for a while, and she worries she’s scared him away. Then she hears a laugh on the other end, but it’s not his usual one. It’s quiet and sad, and almost sounds bitter. “All this time,” he starts, and she’s able to breathe again because at least he’s _still talking._ “I thought I was doing what you wanted. I didn’t mean to make you feel alone, because _of course I miss you_. You’re all over my house and my phone and my mind all the time; it’s hard _not_ to miss you.”

“But we’re ending soon. This is going to be our reality. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life just missing you.” Solar clenches her fists, digging her nails into her palms, wishing he was here because things would be so much simpler if she could just see his face.

Eric still doesn’t seem to be getting it, because he’s silent, so she just kind of tramples over his silence, letting her mouth run away with her thoughts.

“It’s killing me. I can’t stop it and I can’t sleep because my thoughts won’t leave me alone. And, when I do sleep, it’s even worse, because I keep having these dreams…” her voice gets quiet, not sure whether or not he should hear the next part. “Sometimes, in the dreams, you love me back.” She laughs kind of bitterly then. “Isn’t that strange?”

His voice is soft when he responds. “It’s not.”

She hears chaos from his end, someone talking, a car horn beeping. “You should go,” Solar says, immediately regretting her confession.

“I’m calling you back,” he promises. “Or… can we meet? It only has to be for a little bit, I just. I want to talk to you. For real.”

“Sure.”

If possible, she feels more deflated after her conversation with him.

Solar turns around and climbs back into her bed, avoiding the gaze of Moonbyul, who’s _definitely_ awake now, despite her best intentions.

“Was that Eric?” she asks.

“Go back to sleep,” Solar says. “It’s not important.”

)-(

He calls again while she’s sleeping. She misses it, but wakes up to a 6 minute long voicemail that almost sounds like a confession but just skirts the line that would make it one. He sounds tired, but in that energized way he gets right after finishing a late night show. Someone not in in the industry would probably call it delirium - she knows better.

“I don’t even know when you’re going to get this,” Eric whispers, towards the end of it. “Or when you’ll even have time to see me again, but I just know… We can’t let this sputter out without _trying._ ”

He’s right about that. Solar’s almost _scared_ to try though. She doesn’t understand that pain in his voice, or the pain she feels in her own. It’s new and strange, and won’t go away. It pumps through her heart into her blood and spreads through so entirely she can’t differentiate between the parts of her that miss him and the parts that don’t. That’s a terrifying feeling.

It sits with her, throughout the rest of the day, through the performance and the photoshoot. Solar sits in the van as they’re shuttled from event to event and somehow musters up energy she doesn’t have so no one will worry about her.

They still do, though, despite her usual cheery attitude. Moonbyul must have told the others about her call on the balcony. She really should tell them the truth, but she doesn’t even know how to describe it. It’s a changing, cloudy mess that she’s worried might shock her with lightning if she gets too close. Still, she can’t help but linger on it, letting it consume her thoughts to the point that even the weather seems to know the vague shape of it.

Somewhere towards the end of the day, she finds her fingers hovering over the _Send_ button, an invitation for him at the tips of her fingers. While debating every possible, terrible outcome of _trying_ , she rests her head against the cool glass of the car, watching the slight rain out the window.

 _Sputtering out_ , he’d called it - what they’re doing. _Letting it sputter out._ As if their whole thing together is a car and there was only so much gas in it to begin with. She wonders if maybe they should just let it. It would hurt, for sure, but that hurt would be a certain hurt - like the ache in her bones after a particularly grueling late night dance rehearsal. The other option involves so much unpredictable kinds of hurt, with no room to brace for impact.

The car jolts to a stop, narrowly avoiding hitting a biker. Panicked, Solar grabs her phone, and her finger hits the button before the decision can even be made. She’s anxious all over, from both the near miss and the text, and all she wants to do is curl up into a ball and… something. Not cry. She’s long past crying about him. But there’s tension everywhere and she just wants it to _go away._

When her phone vibrates almost immediately with a response Solar almost doesn’t check it. Her members give her curious looks, though, so she lifts it up, delicately with one hand, and reads what he’s written.

A cold sense of relief flows through her body. His response to her almost full paragraph of text is short and simple, but it’s exactly what she’s needed: _something._ She’s been drifting alone for so long, all she needed was something to latch onto, and he gave her more than that. He gave her an _answer:_

_Sounds like a date._

And then, the cloud of everything pulls together. Everything feels so incredibly clear and calm. Even the rain seems to make up its mind, switching from a drizzle to a full on storm. Solar smiles at her phone, for real this time, and the world gets brighter.

)-(

In the end, Eric walks through the door to her apartment building and she pulls him into a hug.

He smells like rain and coffee and some perfume that he’s probably sponsoring, and his sweater is soft on her hands. There’s a gravity between them now, something that’s pulling her to go faster, faster, _faster_ , and she fights it reluctantly. They’ll have all the time in the world for _faster_ later. Right now she just wants to take in the stability he’s bringing her.

“I missed you too,” he says into her hair, and she laughs, pulling away but not letting go of his arms quite yet because she needs the contact there to let her know that this is _real._ “I am curious about one thing, though…”

Solar looks up at Eric, and doesn’t turn away under the fierceness of his gaze this time. “What?”

“What were you dreaming about, that night, when I called?”

He’s so close she’s feeling the gravity again, pulsing through her from the spot where his fingertips rest on her waist. Solar blushes. “It’s embarrassing.”

Eric smiles and shakes his head, like he can’t believe her words. “I doubt that they’re any worse than mine.” She takes that in, trying not to grin at the notion that he’s been dreaming about her too. That maybe, somehow, they ended up in the same place anyways. “All I know is that you said I loved you in them, and that you thought it was strange, which, by the way, it’s totally not, because I-”

The kiss is prompted mostly by her feet, which are pushed upward by her toes into him when she’s finally unable to stand the space in between them anymore. Solar’s mind is almost entirely blank except for the one, undeniable fact she’s just received: _he loves her, he loves her he loves her, and it’s not strange at all._ She swallows his words and traces her tongue around the roof of his mouth, trying to tell him everything with just one kiss.

When they pull apart, she has to hold on tight to his arms to keep herself grounded. She opens her eyes to his wide smile, and smiles back.

“I was going to say I love you,” Eric says, happy eyes crinkled at the corners.

Solar hits him. “I love you too,” she says, and she means it. “And I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

He cups her face with his hands and traces her lips with one of his thumbs. “That’s not going to be a problem,” he assures her. And then he kisses her again.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it for this week! 2 more days until the new episode when we will see this all most definitely not happen. Still, that's what fanfics are for, right?


End file.
